The Company You Keep
By
Penelope Marzec

Chapter One

    An icy wind blew through Jennifer Brant's soul. The portal was open. Deep in the woods on the family farm lay the strange gateway of death, and Jennifer could always sense when a spirit passed through it. Usually, it took only a moment, but tonight the bitter frost continued to grip her heart with a black chill that gave her the distinct impression her world had altered. Who had died?
    She thought immediately of her sister-in-law, Terry, but if anything had happened, surely Michael would have called her right away.
    Jennifer parted the gingham café curtains covering her kitchen windows and peered out at the snow-covered New Jersey landscape. She glanced toward her brother's house, one half-mile away past the barn, but she could see only darkness in that direction. Michael was probably at the hospital with his wife right now.
    A bright half moon hung over the ridge and lent an eerie shimmer to the white-layered woods in the January night. Then Jennifer saw a dim light darting between the trees. Fright swept through her as the beam glittered through the ice-coated branches.
    Flinging her long, heavy braid over her shoulder, she tried to calm herself. Perhaps the light came from another one of Nathan McDugan's spies, braving the bitter winter weather to survey the farm. She'd heard the crazy billionaire had started bidding with a contractor willing to build his concert hall here in Marlpit, even though the bank hadn't foreclosed on her land yet.
    She feared what would happen if someone discovered the portal, or if it became damaged by heavy earth moving equipment. She suspected that any change would wreak havoc in some way. Her intuition warned her that she had to keep the ominous gateway safe.
    She put her hand over her heart and felt it racing. She wondered who had just died, or how many, while the icy wind continued to gnaw at her.
    She frowned as the pale beacon trailed along the ridge. A frigid draught whisked through the window sash, raising goose bumps on her skin as a new suspicion came to her mind.
    Could that be George, their stable hand, out there? Michael had dismissed George last night. The harsh measure was a last- ditch effort to save the farm. It would be just like George to get rip-roaring drunk, but he wouldn't go roaming through the woods on a night like this. Or would he? What if he stumbled into a snowdrift? What if he was the one who had died?
    Jennifer tried to rub some warmth back into her arms while she remained possessed by the unnatural chill. She picked up the phone and punched in Michael's number. The answering machine switched on after the second ring. Twisting the end of her braid into a knot, she waited for the end of the message.
    "Hi, Michael. Somebody's out in the woods, along the top of the ridge. Give me a call when you get in. Maybe you could check it out. Okay?" She placed the receiver back in its cradle and wrung her hands.
    What if it wasn't George? Right now, McDugan's spy could be hammering stakes into her property and mapping out the destruction of her land, and, unwittingly, the ruination of the entryway for the spirits of the dead.   more >>